Haruka and Poetry?
by Morte d'Amour
Summary: What happens when Michiru forces Haurka to write poetry? Can our favourite blonde be that creative?


**Yes, it's me :) I'm back – and I'm still working on my only other story, I just lack motivation (and perhaps bravery) to carry on with it at the moment. **

**Anyway, here's my strange story. :)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Haruka and Michiru but I really wish I did. I'm just manipulating them for a little while. :)**

* * *

"Ruka come on, hurry up!"

It was a wonderful day, blue sky, happy little chirping birds... Perfect for a day-long shopping spree, or so a certain beautiful young woman (with aqua hair) had decided. She wasn't doing much shopping however, instead being consumed with the task of dragging her soul-mate along. The handsome blonde wasn't too keen on the idea however...

"Please Michi – let me stay home!" the blonde pleaded, grabbing for the door frame of their house.

Realising Haruka wasn't going to let go any time soon, Michiru tried a different tactic...

"Suit yourself, love. I'll just be needing to borrow your car then..."

At the mention of her second love, Haruka's eyes widened with fear. Her thoughts drifted back to the last time she had let Michiru drive her car... an image of a wreck crossed her mind.

"NOOOOO!!! Alright! Alright! I'll go!" she screamed, and raced for the front seat of her beloved sports car.

The aqua goddess giggled. '_You're so predictable Ruka.' _she thought, as she climbed in the seat next to her lover.

* * *

A half hour later and they were both walking through the shopping district (they would have been there in half the time had Michiru not insisted on traveling at the speed limit, or so Haruka had grumbled).

As they were passing numerous shops, Michiru glanced at her love. Haruka noticed the familiar eyes on her and met Michiru's gaze. She took the opportunity to show her discomfort.

"Why Michi? Why? Do you really need me here?" She pouted, giving her puppy-dog eyes as they both continued walking at a steady pace.

Michiru giggled, "That look won't work on me Ruka – besides, I'll make it up to you later..." Her eyes glinted mischievously, as she smiled suggestively at her love.

Haruka smiled back, her eyes glazing over as she became lost in her provocative thoughts. She soon came back to reality when she heard Michiru call her name.

She walked over to her aqua haired companion, who had drifted over to a poster attached to a shop window. The blonde tomboy wrapped her arms around her loves waist, indicating her presence.

Michiru glanced up at Haruka, "Look Ruka, a poetry contest. Why don't you enter it?"

Poetry? Michiru suggesting poetry to Haruka?

"Um, poetry isn't really my thing Michi. Why don't you try? You're more creative than me..."

Haruka trailed off, hoping that minor flattery would get her out of this one. No such luck.

"That's why I want you to try it instead. I've always wondered what kind of poet you would be..." This time it was Michiru's turn to trail off.

Haruka sighed. '_Well, if it makes her happy... Besides, it's only poetry – how hard can it be?'_

After taking note of the important details of the competition, they both resumed their previous activities – Michiru shopping, and Haruka with her head in the clouds.

* * *

"Home! Home at last!"

"We had only gone shopping for the day Ruka, not venturing in unknown territory."

"That IS unknown territory Michi! The whole day!" A sight pause as the blonde nearly dropped the many bags that Michiru had managed to accumulate

Michiru sighed at her loves childishness, and opened the door to their home. Haruka nearly fell through the door, and after placing every last bag in the living room – she jumped on the sofa.

She sighed, "Free at last!"

Michiru laughed, causing the blonde to look at her in confusion, "What?"

Michiru laughed again, "Not free just yet Ruka – there's still that poetry competition you have to think about."

Haruka grimaced. _'Poetry. How am I supposed to write poetry?'_

Seeing her loves face, Michiru smiled, "Alright Haruka, if you at least attempt to write a suitable poem I'll do whatever you want." If that didn't convince the blonde, nothing would.

Haruka perked up, "Anything?"

"Anything."

Haruka smiled evilly, she was going to have fun with this. "Can I possibly have that in writing?"

Michiru smiled, "Just get going Ruka. You have the rest of the day – use it wisely."

Haruka jumped off the sofa and headed to the study, suggestive thoughts on her mind for the second time that day.

Michiru called out to her, "I won't let you get away with just anything!"

Haruka waved showing she had heard her, then muttered to herself, "Yeah, I know you won't. But lets see what I can come up with then, shall we?"

She walked into her study and sat down at her desk. She leant back in her chair, putting her brain in 'think' mode.

"Poetry...Hmmmm..." A long pause. "Let's see..." A light bulb magically appeared over her head, "Aha! I know!"

It was then that she realised something... "A pen! Where's a pen?!"

Frantically the blonde began searching everywhere around the room for a pen. She was still searching madly when Michiru poked her head around the study door.

"Ruka? Are you alright? I heard a lot of banging..."

Haruka turned, "I'm fine Michi, I just can't find a pen!"

The aqua haired woman looked at her strangely, and pointed to the one – and most obvious – place Haruka had failed to look. The desk.

Haruka composed herself, trying to hide her blush, "Ahem Of course it was there Michi... I'm just, um, trying to think of some subjects for my poem you see..."

Michiru just laughed, "If you say so Ruka, I'll just leave you to it then." She withdrew her head and closed the door behind her.

As soon as the door closed, Haruka sweatdropped, mumbling curses as she took her seat once again, this time picking up the pen.

* * *

Michiru was preparing dinner (chopping the veg) in the kitchen when she heard more crashes and bangs coming from the study.

"Oh dear..." She sighed, before contemplating whether to go see what the fuss was about this time. She was just about to walk out the room when it went quite again.

She shrugged, walking back to the kitchen counter. She picked up her knife once again and was about to resume chopping when...

CRASH!!!

She dropped the knife and ran to her love. "Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear..."

* * *

Haruka wanted to scream. The perfect idea – and if she had found that stupid pen when she needed it, the idea would have been on paper already.

Michiru burst through the door. Her eyes widened in horror.

"T-Te-Tenou Haruka! What the hell have you done?!"

Haurka stopped her rampage. She looked from Michiru, to her surroundings.

"Oops..." She muttered.

"Oops?! OOPS?! Is that all you can say?!" Michiru screamed.

Haruka cringed. She had really done it this time.

"The room is TRASHED and all you can say is OOPS!" Michiru was still screaming at the blonde.

"Michi! I'm sorry! It's just that I couldn't find the pen, and then I forgot my idea..." She tried pleading with the aqua haired beauty, but to no avail.

"Haruka! You will clean this mess RIGHT NOW! Then you will sit at that desk and the next thing I hear from you better be you telling me that you've finished the poem!" And with that Michiru slammed the door, leaving Haruka amongst her mess – books, documents, pens and pencils covered the floor, desk drawers pulled from their home laying helplessly amongst their contents, cupboards unhinged, and a solitary chair leg laying far from where it should be.

Haruka sighed as she picked up her pen (she wasn't about to 'lose' it again), "This is going to take a LONG time..."

* * *

It was late in the evening now, and Michiru hadn't heard from her love in over four hours.

She sighed, walking to the study, "Perhaps I over-reacted a little..."

She stopped at the door and knocked gently. A few moments passed and no answer. She knocked again, this time a little harder. Silence was still the only reply. She opened the door slightly and poked her head through.

"Ruka?" She whispered.

The only light source was from the lamp at the desk. She looked around the room, even in dim light happily noting that everything was in its rightful place once again, right down to the once lonely chair leg.

"Ruka?" She asked the darkness again. Silence greeted her.

She sighed, walking to the desk.

Thud.

"Ow... snores"

She stopped, and looked down. Haruka lay curled up on the floor, hugging her pen to her chest.

_'Hehe, even a light kick isn't enough to wake my Ruka.'_ Michiru laughed, quietly.

She carefully stepped over the sleeping blonde, wondering if she had actually managed to write anything that could be called poetry.

She reached the desk, and noticed a single bit of paper with messy (but legible) handwriting. A few minutes passed as she read the result of her loves hard work.

"Aww, poor Ruka... Maybe I shouldn't make her enter that contest after all." She giggled to herself, making the sleeping form on the floor stir.

"Huh? Michi? That you?" Haruka slowly rose to her feet, moving her hands to clutch at her head. "Ow... that is the last time I fall asleep on the floor – my head is killing me!"

"I don't think that was because of the floor Ruka..." Michiru muttered to herself. She laughed – a kick to the head can't wake her Ruka, but anything less can.

"What are you laughing about Michi?" Haruka asked, confused at her goddesses chuckles,

"Nothing Ruka," She quickly changed the subject, "By the looks of it you've done everything I asked... Shall I make it up to you now?" She smiled, walking to the door, her hips swaying slightly.

Haruka snapped awake. Smiling at the possibilities, she began to follow her love. As she reached the door, she remember her pathetic excuse for a poem she wrote after cleaning the bomb-site that was her study a few hours before.

She walked to the desk and picked up the paper. She laughed to herself as she re-read it.

_What is inspiration for a poet who has no inspiration?_

_The trees, the flowers, the emotion... or perhaps that little speck on the wall,_

_But then what to write? So many words to use yet none seem to work,_

_However, the hand reluctantly picks up the article of your defeat – yes, a pen,_

_But hovers in midair – no further command received,_

_Oh what to do? You hear the tick, tick, tick of the clock,_

_Reminding the ever-blank mind that time is short,_

_The random doodles atop this page being the only reward this time,_

_And so, as the frustrated intellect leaves her workspace,_

_She leaves behind the final result of her day long labour,_

"_Nothing more to write,_

_So I place down this pen,_

_My last words out,_

_This is the end..._

_(Of my career at least)." _

Still laughing, she screwed the sheet up and chucked it in the overflowing bin – more results of her poor attempts. Putting it all behind her, she turned off the lamp, consuming her in shadows. She then left the room, closed the study door and began walking up the stairs to her Michiru, grinning slyly.

"Oh the possibilities..." She chuckled.


End file.
